


Secrets Inside Night Vale City Hall

by kikitheslayer



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Arguing, Daureen, F/F, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 10:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4388882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikitheslayer/pseuds/kikitheslayer





	Secrets Inside Night Vale City Hall

The Night Vale City Hall was a large building outback of the town swimming pool. Somewhere inside was a room where the heat in the air seemed to have dashed out, saying: “oh, I’ll bet I left the water on in the apartment, dammit, I’m sorry I have to rush out-- oh, no, no don’t-- don’t wait for me, I’ll just-- do you hear that? ...Anyway thanks, I gotta take this, bye.” Luckily it had called in someone to cover for it, which was why there was an icy chill in the air, making the hairs stand up on the backs of the necks of anyone inside. The chill would not receive a Christmas bonus this year.

The room looked fairly comfortable. It was rectangular, with a long table down the left side and a fireplace on the right. It as unlit and in front of it sat two arm chairs--one striped blue and green and the other polka-dotted in various shades of purple. There was a mini-fridge next to the table, which itself was surrounded with a few chairs. There was a window on the wall across from the door, however the white see-through curtains were drawn, as outside rain was thudding heavily on the parking lot. The parking lot, specifically. This was strange, as Night Vale was located in the desert, and there was an awning over the parking lot, but this was not the first thing on the minds of the two women in the room.

One was sitting behind the table, a pained expression on her face, working over a stack of papers. She had brown skin with light undertones, and red, natural hair. Her eyes were dark brown and she was wearing black, rectangular reading glasses that enlarged them. She had on some red lipstick and was wearing a professional black and white pants-suit. She was fingering a small bird pendant hanging from her neck on a silver chain.

The other was around the same age, early twenties, and was sitting in the green and blue chair. She had long, mousey brown hair tucked back with a blue headband, and light skin with freckles. She was wearing an over-sized purple sweater and blue jeans with flowers embroidered on them. She had on old, dirty sneakers and had periwinkle eyes covered with simple, blue, rectangular glasses. Her legs were crossed and she glared silently at the empty fireplace. One arm was crossed over her chest and the other held a Pepsi can she was barely drinking.

The woman at the desk set her pen down on the desk with a soft thud. She dropped her necklace and put her elbows on the table. “We should talk,” she said. 

“What about?” asked the other woman.

These were the first two phrase uttered by the two women in about twenty minutes, the time that had passed since Maureen, the woman in the armchair, had brought up her plan to accept Cecil Palmer’s offer to return to work at Night Vale Community Radio.

“You know what, Maureen,” the red-haired women said. “Please don’t do it.”

Maureen turned around. “Look, Dana,” she responded. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not that big a deal?!” cried Dana. “Maureen I can still sometimes see through your hands!”

“Oh, you can not,” said Maureen, taking a big gulp from her soda. 

Dana took off her reading glasses and rubbed her eyes. She stood up and walked across the room, taking a seat in the purple chair. It was cushy and she sank into it slightly. She crossed her arms and again the two were silent.

Finally, Dana said, “I just don’t know how you could even consider going back there.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” said Maureen. “Look, Dana, where the hell am I supposed to get an internship in this town? I put a resume in on the accounting firm website and my computer translated everything into German and started smoking.” Dana remained silent and Maureen’s smile faded. She tried again. “Besides, I think we’ve basically proved I’m invincible.”

After a moment Dana replied “I’m worried about you, sweetie. I love Cecil, but you know more about the dangers of that job than anyone.”

Maureen sighed. After a pause, she asked, “you know people still call me Intern Maureen?”

Dana said, “Maureen, why do you care? You’re safe--”

“I live in Night Vale.”

“You’re sorta safe, we’re together, I’m mayor, everything’s... fine, finally…”

Maureen cut her off. “I don’t care, Dana. But look, hon, this isn’t where I wanted to be five years ago. Working part-time at Starbucks? No college degree, the most excitement in my life these days are ritual blood sacrifices to The God of Warm Beverages and secretly dating the mayor...”

Dana smiled slightly. “You hate excitement.”

“Okay, yeah. But c’mon Dana, I only need to last like six more weeks and I’ll get to put it on my resume.”

“Okay,” said Dana.

Maureen was surprised. “Really?” she asked.

Dana nodded. “I know I’ll never change your mind. Besides, if I’m threatening Cecil, at least I know I can win.”

Maureen leaned forward and put a hand on Dana’s knee. “Baby, I promise I’ll be basically the worst intern ever. No getting Cecil coffee, no nothing.”

“And if anything happens to you, I’ll make sure Cecil gets brought in for questioning on a series of completely unrelated and time-consuming crimes.”

“I love dating a mayor,” said Maureen.

Dana smiled and sat down next to Maureen, setting her hands under her legs.

Maureen turned and pressed her face into Dana’s hair, inhaling the smell her lilac shampoo. 

Dana turned and pressed her lips softly to the other woman’s. She drew back and looked into her eyes. “I do love you,” she whispered. It was the first time.

“...I love you, too,” whispered Maureen back, after a moment, her voice sounding almost amazed. She drew back farther. “But if Cecil asks me to get him orange juice, I will kill him.”

“And I won’t blame you,” the mayor smiled.


End file.
